Smoke
by Jarrtail
Summary: A dark force is engulfing the land, threatening to consume even Redwall itself. Its only hope is a ferret, exiled from the abbey for a crime he didn't commit, and his two peculiar companions, against a danger so great it defeated Martin himself.
1. Prologue: Exile

**Hey, look! I'm not dead! I've decided to post this because I haven't posted anything for a while, and this has been sitting around in my documents folder for a while. Some of you may have seen this before, as I submitted this for the Terrouge (www(dot)terrouge(dot)com) June 2009 issue, and to my great surprise, was accepted. Seeing as I left it as a bit of a cliffhanger, I'm making it into a full story, with this as the prologue. Please enjoy. **

To the casual observer, it appeared as though a shadow had flitted across the path, possibly as a result of a bird flying overhead, or a tree branch moving in the wind, which was of course, wrong. This is one of the many reasons that casual observation is usually considered an inadequate method for making assumptions about things. The "shadow" was, in reality a gray-furred ferret by the name of Smoke, who was currently wishing he was actually a shadow. Shadows weren't being hunted by a pack of bloodthirsty Redwallers.

"_Five seasons,_" he muttered under his breath, "_five bloody seasons. _I suppose I should be flattered they'd chase me this long, but it gets annoyin' after a while, all this. Always hidin', with half th' Abbey on my tail, never stopping to think about _what_ they're doin'. That's their problem. They never look at th' big picture; never understand th' scope of things. If they stopped and _thought_ for a minute, they'd see th' truth, but instead they chase an innocent beast 'round Mossflower fer five seasons._" _Smoke carried on like this for a while, in a hushed voice so not to draw attention to the low-hanging beech limb where he had situated himself. He often talked to himself during these rare, quiet moments, when he was not on lookout, or sleeping fitfully, worried that he would wake up with a sword in his chest.

The ferret eventually tired of this one-sided conversation, instead allowing his mind to wander back to that day, the feast of the Winter of the Early Snows.

A younger and much more heavily garbed version of Smoke trotted up the center of the path, heading east, where he could hear the bells tolling. He knew it must be for the feast, as it was too early to be calling dinner, but far too late for lunch. The only other viable option was that somebeast had died, but in these peaceful times, he doubted it. There had been no vermin threats of any kind for many a season now.

Presently, he came upon the Abbey of Redwall, the large gate rising up above him, almost mountainous in scale. The hedgehog on wall guard duty waved at him cheerily. "Hello, Smoke! I can guess you've come for the feast. How'd you know that we were having it now?" Smoke exhaled, the unusually chilly weather causing his breath to turn to a cloud of steam when it left his mouth. "Hellsteeth, Tril, I'd be more likely to tell ya if ya were to let me outta this bloody cold!"

Tril Quillback grinned to himself as he unbarred the gate. Smoke was well known around the Abbey as a traveler who brought news of happenings outside their range of knowledge. He had done nothing thus far to brand him as a particularly malicious beast, and was relatively amicable once you got to know him.

The ferret stepped past Tril, and into the Abbey lawn; his eyes turned upward, his expression one of awe. He never failed to be impressed by the massive structure, and this visit was no exception. Angling his glance slightly downward, he noticed that the orchard trees were unusually bare, and there were patches of white everywhere. Having been out of Mossflower for most of the season, he had not witnessed the oddly early first snowfall over a month beforepaw, and apparently the weather had remained cold enough to preserve part of it here.

As he entered the main Abbey building, he was met by Abbot Oak, a venerable squirrel who had his best seasons far behind him.

Oak shook Smoke's paw warmly. "Greetings, my son, I take it you have arrived for the feast. We have been expecting you."

Looking back on the incident, the ferret realized that this should have been the first sign of trouble. He had come to several Redwall feasts before, yes, but not consistently enough to be considered an expected visitor.

Unfortunately, instead of choosing the more logical option of running far, far away and never coming back, Smoke returned the Abbot's grin. "Aye, wouldn't miss it, 'specially what with the weather now."

Taking a sharp left, the ferret entered Great Hall, where preparations for the banquet were nearing completion. Smoke licked his lips at the large amount of food already there, with more coming out of the kitchen and being laid on the large main table. He amused himself for a while trying to name all the dishes in front of him (_blackberry crumble, cherry tart, shrimp 'n hotroot soup…_), but soon gave up.

Presently, a jovial-looking otter plopped into the seat to the right of him, and a younger mouse on the left. They talked and joked with each other for a short while, but Smoke did not join in. He never was one for talking just for the sake of it. After about ten minutes of this, Abbot Oak hoppled into the room, and rang a small bell, signaling that it was time for the grace.

"We thank thee, Mother Nature,

For allowing us to harvest your gracious bounty,

To provide for us hungry creatures,

The food which graces this table."

This was followed by a loud "Amen."

Smoke was starting on a bowl of shrimp 'n hotroot soup when he noticed Abbot Oak leaving through a small side door, unnoticed in the general chaos of the room. More curious than hungry, he followed, glancing furtively around to make sure he was not being followed. As he gently pushed open the door, he heard voices. "And remember; make it look like it was him who did it. We don't want anybeast sticking their nose in too far, they might find something important."

Smoke stiffened. That voice was the Abbot's. Before this surprising revelation could fully sink in, a gruffer voice replied, chuckling; "Shure boss. Huh, huh, dat stoopid ferret an' does dumb Abbeybeast won' suspec' a ting."

Smoke lurched away from the door, appalled at what he had just heard. Unfortunately, in the act of lurching, his right footpaw struck the door, opening it. Inside, he managed to catch a glimpse of the Abbot talking with a dirty-looking, well-armed rat before the rat swung a club at his head.

Then all was darkness.

The first thing he was aware of was a splitting headache. Then a voice, "Hello, it appears we have a visitor. I do hope my comrade did not damage you too badly. We need you intact, you see."

Smoke became slowly, painfully, aware of his surroundings. Oak was standing over him, and the brutish rat was nowhere to be seen. "For wh-what?" he managed to croak out.

"For what? Ah, but you fail to understand the scope of things here. Too long we Redwallers have had to live under the shadow of those called "vermin," always having to defend against them, never destroying their horrid blight!" at this, the squirrel shook violently, but clamed himself down, "My plan is quite brilliant, you see. It all hinged on that you were to be in the area, which my various sources confirmed that you were. Now imagine this: Redwall invites a vermin, a ferret to be exact, to their feast in good faith, but he then murders a respected member of the Abbey, and makes off with the famed tapestry of Martin the Warrior. How do you think they would react?"

Smoke glared daggers at the beast he had once respected as Abbot, "They'd never believe that. They'd have no evidence it was me."

Oak grinned a sickening grin, "You think I never considered that? When I shook your hand earlier, I removed a clump of your distinctive gray fur. My large friend took it with him when he left a few minutes ago to kill old Darius the Recorder, who did not come to the feast as a result of a stomachache that was a result of a little something I slipped into his drink. I expect he's dead by now, with a clump of gray fur in his claws, as if he tried to fend the attacker who also stole the Tapestry. My friend is ruthlessly efficient, you see. Now, all that is left to do is ensure that you are seen trying to slink away when they find the body…."

He got no further, as Smoke had managed to unobtrusively free the small dagger he kept in his boot for emergencies. Leaping up, he plunging it into the crazed squirrel's throat, ending his life instantly. The ferret stood over the prone body, mentally running through possible scenarios in his mind. None of them ended well, which meant he had one option. Run.

Five minutes later, he was running away from the Abbey of Redwall, faster than he had ever run before. He never looked back, never saw the Abbeybeast's shocked reaction to the deaths, never saw the tearstained faces and cracked voices which swore death upon him.

Jolted back to the present by voices coming up the path, Smoke the gray ferret dashed back into the forest, away from prying eyes that would tell of him, away from what was certain death.

Running, always running.


	2. The Warrior and a Traveling Companion

Chapter 1

_The Warrior and a Traveling Companion_

He knew he was right. He always was. That was why he was the Red Warrior. Tannic grabbed the wondrous sword of Martin the Warrior from its place on his wall, admiring the shining blade. It was a pity that, because of the Tapestry being stolen by that despicable _vermin_ Smoke –_yes, only because of that_, Martin had not appeared to him in dreams, but the Abbeybeasts had unanimously elected him to the position of Redwall Warrior, Martin or no Martin.

The tall otter was leading a patrol to find a squirrel that had run off, taking with her foods purloined from the abbey kitchen, and a bow and quiver from their now-ample weapon supply, no doubt trying to hunt for vermin, maybe even that Smoke. He just had to get approval of the Councils, which was a given, and he'd be off. They'd lost too many strong, young beasts for reasons like these. He would find that vermin-hunting squirrel before she got hurt. He knew a lot more about vermin than she did, and what they were capable of. His teacher had been the best:

Abbot Oak.

* * *

Smoke opened his eyes, quickly scanning the area around him. He didn't see anything, but that was more because it was the dead of night than that there was nothing to see. He had heard a twig crack, he was sure of it. He slowly pulled his dagger out of his belt, holding it in front of him. It was a nice dagger, slightly longer than average, with a curved blade and three purple jewels embedded in the hilt (the larger one as the pommel stone, the other two on the blade guard).

Sensing a presence, the gray ferret whirled around, but not quickly enough. He was knocked from his perch on a tree branch by a flying kick. Thankfully, he did not have far to fall, thudding into the leaf mold on the forest floor. The figure jumped down from the branch above Smoke's, toward the fallen ferret, but he managed to roll out of the way before it squashed him.

The beast lay stunned for a second, and the gray ferret seized the chance by dropping his dagger and grabbing the creature by its neck, slamming it into a nearby birch tree. As his eyes adjusted, Smoke almost laughed in relief. It was a female squirrel, younger than him by a few seasons. "If you're going to kill me, do it quickly, foul vermin!"

At that, Smoke really did laugh. This was all too ridiculous. "Lemme guess. Yer from the Abbey?"

The squirrel remained silent. He laughed again. "Th' quality of th' beasts they send after me has really decreased, hasn't it?"

Not waiting for a reply, he kicked the squirrelmaid in the stomach, winding her. Then he grabbed his dagger, reversing his grip so he was holding the blade, and hit her between the ears, knocking her out cold. Taking a rope from his haversack, which had fallen down after him, he tied the squirrel to the tree. Replacing the dagger at the back of his belt, he climbed into a nearby oak to get some sleep. He'd release her in the morning, he decided. _Though not at Redwall,_ he added mentally.

* * *

Smoke was awakened come morning by a stream of insults coming from the recently revived squirrelmaid. He clambered out of the tree, and took his dagger out of his belt. She abruptly stopped talking when he walked towards her, but instead of doing something painful to her, he slit the ropes binding her to the birch tree. "There. Yer free. Now go back to yer bloody Abbey an' _leave me alone._"

She glared at him, and then spoke. "One question, you vile scum: Have you seen another ferret by the name of Smoke, gray like yourself? I need to kill him."

The ferret looked at her incredulously. "I am Smoke. What do they teach you at Redwall these days, eh?"

"_You're _Smoke?"

"Yes. Now leave."

"I assumed you'd be a bit…taller."

Smoke started laughing again. It was good to have something to laugh about these days, even if that "thing" wanted to kill you. "Heh, yer dumber than I thought. Look, _I didn't steal yer damned Tapestry and I didn't kill the damn Recorder!_ I did kill the Abbot, but that was self-defense!"

Now it was the squirrel's turn to look at him oddly. "I'm sure. You just be glad I lost my bow last night, or you'd be lying on the ground with three arrows in your murdering body."

Smoke sighed. "This ain't getting anywhere. Do you want to hear th' real story?"

She didn't answer, but he told her anyway. He told her how he was invited to Redwall's feast, how he was betrayed by the Abbot, highlighting on the fact that _he _tried to kill Smoke in the first place and not vice versa, and how he was forced to flee for his life following the death of Oak. He didn't think that she believed him, but it was nice to tell somebeast after so long.

After he was finished, he grabbed his haversack and started walking away. The squirrel, as expected, got up and followed him. Smoke feigned surprise, "Hey, what 'r yeh doing? Yeh know th' way back to Redwall, right?"

She shrugged, embarrassed. "Not really. I sort of got lost, and then I saw your haversack strap hanging out of the tree…"

Smoke almost grinned. This was all too easy. "Well, I know th' way back to the path, ain't been near there fer 'bout a week now, but I remember all right. You want me to take you?"

She shrugged again. "Yeah, but one false move and I'll rip out your throat with my own teeth, got it?"

Smoke turned in another direction, and began walking faster. "None of that, or I'll leave yeh in th' woods to starve, got it?"

The female squirrel nodded her assent. Smoke had one more thing to say, however. "So, what's yer name, anyhow?"

"Hazel."

Smoke nodded, though he was mentally adding her name to a little list he kept in his head. The list already had three names, and Hazel was the fourth. _The fourth to come after me, _he thought, _nice enough beast. It's almost a shame, what I have to do. _

**In case it wasn't clear, this takes place about a week after the prologue (it shouldn't be clear, I only hinted on this once. If you figured it out, give yourself a cookie). This chapter introduced two very pivotal characters, plus, we're discovering that Smoke might not be as nice as he originally seemed, and a little crazy, too.**

**Well, what did you think? Good? Bad? Please review! My self-esteem depends on it!**

**By the way, I'm going to be on vacation next week, so if you don't get any review replies and the like during that time period, it's not because I've forgotten you guys. **

**-Jarrtail**


	3. Voices

**I'm back, people! Sorry about the long wait, but my life's been a little chaotic lately. I'll try to get the next update up sooner, I promise. Thanks to all those who reviewed: mosshadow, Persarr, ****Tarshearma, Jade TeaLeaf, and Quavera Tava. **

Chapter Two

_Voices_

He followed them, driven on by the voice in his head. It commanded him, he didn't dare disobey it. Agilely leaping from branch to branch, he remained above the strange pair he had been ordered to shadow, a gray ferret and a squirrel…

***

Hazel really couldn't fathom how the vermin had believed that she wouldn't hurt him. They must be even stupider than Tannic made them out to be, and that was saying something. _Heh, Tannic. I can't wait to see the look on his face when I deliver him the Abbey's greatest enemy to them, tied and bound like a lamb for the slaughter. That'll put that uppity otter in his place. _

The squirrel chuckled quietly to herself. She just had to wait for the stupid ferret to lie down to sleep, and then she'd tie him up with that same rope that had held her. Maybe she'd slap him around a bit, too. Consumed with these grandiose thoughts, she didn't notice the low-lying tree limb until it collided with her head.

"Look out back there! Any more hits like that, and you'll probably have to re-learn how to chew!" came the mocking voice from up ahead. Hazel merely gritted her teeth, biting back the insult she was about to throw back. She needed this _vermin's _help if she ever wanted to make it back to Redwall. _Next time, I'll bring a map, _she told herself mentally.

***

Smoke knew that the squirrel planned to betray him, but it didn't bother him unduly. He was convinced that he would get her first, and he had a few tricks up his sleeve. No, the imminent disloyalty of his traveling companion wasn't what kept him looking back over his shoulder at the slightest noise. It was what was trailing them that was his biggest concern.

Whatever it was, it was clumsy, jumping through the treetops relatively noisily. He was surprised that Hazel had not noticed it, but she was a Redwaller, after all, a complete novice when it came to life outside the walls. She couldn't be expecting to know what every self-respecting woodlander taught their children before they hit three seasons.

Suddenly, he heard the leaves rustling directly above him, accompanied by somebeast's heavy breathing. Without pausing to think, he grabbed a paw-sized rock from the forest floor and threw it directly upwards with all his strength. It flew up into the leaves of an overhanging birch tree, followed by a pained yelp and a shape falling to the forest floor.

_I remember when I used to go weeks without somebeast falling out of a tree in front of me _thought Smoke wryly. Stepping over to the fallen figure, he gave a sigh of relief. It was a pine marten, maybe fifteen seasons old. _Why does this kind of thing always happen to _me_? _He prodded the prone beast with his dagger handle, only to have him sit up screaming.

"Ahhhh! Get out of my head! Out! Agggh!" With Smoke and Hazel watching in amazement, the odd beast proceeded to hit his head with his paw, still yelling. Then he became silent, and turned around to look at the two.

"'ello. My name's Brushtail. 'ow do yew do?" Hazel's mouth remained agape, but Smoke responded rather quickly.

"Who th' _hell_ are yeh, an' what are yeh doin' following us?!"

The marten smiled simply, tilting his head slightly. "The voice in my head told me."

It was Smoke's turn to be in shocked silence while Hazel reacted. "You poor thing, do you want to come with us? I'm sure we can help you with your…voices."

The gray ferret pulled the squirrel to one side, glaring. "Ohhh no, my moron limit for this expedition has been maxed out already. We are not stopping to pick up crazy martens, understand? Great "fake kindness" act, though. Almost as good as th' one yeh've been pullin' on me."

Hazel stared right back at him, her voice rather tense. "At Redwall, we are peaceful creatures who pledge to help all those in need, even if they are…_vermin,_" she spat the word like a curse.

Smoke put up his paws in mock horror. "Yeah, like they _helped_ me when they ran me outta their damned Abbey and hunted me for five seasons 'cause of their stupid tapestry. I don't think Brushtail here needs that kind of _help_."

"He's coming with us, that's final!"

"Since when did yeh have a say in this?! As far as I'm concerned, yer just baggage that I have to transport! Trust me; there'r plenty of "vermin" in these woods who would just _love _to get their hands on a squirrel, and they're nowhere near as merciful as me!"

The argument was ended by Brushtail, who meekly stood up and placed himself between the two. "If it's not too much trouble, I'd like to go with you. You are going to Redwall, right? Is th' food as nice as they say?"

Smoke threw up his paws, exasperated. "Fine, he'll come with us as far as the path. Then he's your problem, squirrel."

"Fine by me. I'm sure he'd be better off with anybeast other than you, _murderer_."

Smoke set off again in sullen silence, with Brushtail trailing beside him and Hazel bringing up the rear. After walking for a while, the timid marten worked up the courage to ask the question:

"What did the squirrel mean by "murderer," sir?"

Smoke was silent, and then answered, sounding tired, "Well, it means I made a decision that I thought was right, but others think it was wrong."

"And was it the right decision?"

Smoke was quiet again. "You know, I'm still trying to work that one out."

Brushtail trudged along, ignoring the burrs that got trapped in his unusually large tail, thinking and listening to the voice in his head. "_Oh yes," _it purred _"This one is perfect for my plan. It's all coming together nicely…"_

***

After walking for many hours, and with dusk beginning to creep over the horizon, Smoke declared that they should make camp under the relative shelter provided by an oak tree that had fallen onto an ash in some a long-ago season, and the ash tree had grown around the younger and smaller oak, forming a sort of 'V' shape. It was stable, and from under it their presence was indictable from the trees above. Both of his companions agreed without argument, mostly because they were too tired to do so.

After a meager meal of stale bread from Smoke's pack and some water from the aforementioned's canteen, the three lay down to sleep without a second thought, with the darkness surrounding them like an endless ocean of night.

***

Smoke was running through endless mist, following a dim shape that he thought he knew, but couldn't remember when suddenly it stopped and whirled around toward him.

"You!"

He was looking at the face of Martin the Warrior, but he looked…different somehow. Sad, perhaps, or just weary. The ferret, without hesitation, grabbed the mouse warrior by the throat with one paw and drew his dagger with the other. He placed the blade against Martin's throat, growling in his face.

"Any last words, yeh damned whoreson?!" he spat, pressing the dagger harder.

In retrospect, it was a bad idea to try to grab a spirit, as Martin simply floated through Smoke's paw. "I understand your anger, but I need your help with something."

Smoke was positively infuriated by this point. "Help?! _HELP?!_ Yeh expect me to help you when _yer _precious Redwallers have been trying to kill me for five seasons?! Ages of death must have dulled yer brain!"

Martin sighed, leaning on his sword. "Truly, I wish that that had never happened. You have done nothing wrong, but you are persecuted by those who should be the good in this world."

Smoke folded his arms, his anger subsiding slowly. "Don't remind me. So did yeh come 'ere just to tell me how much my life's been sucking and leave? Big help."

"No, I'm here because you are the last beast that could help me. Even the Red Warrior failed me, surrendering to the evil inside him. The fate of the world as we both know it rests in your paws, Smoke."

The ferret put up his paws defensively. "Yer crazy. If th' world really was screwed, I'd be th' last beast anybeast would want to come to."

"That's the problem…you are. Every other possible choice had already been ruined beyond repair by the Shadow."

Smoke hung his head. "Great. There's some "evil" force out there called the "Shadow" and I'm the only one who can save us. That makes _perfect _sense."

Martin's tail swished from side to side, stirring up the mist. "Well, of course it's going to sound stupid when you say it like that…"

"What is this "Shadow," anyway?"

The mouse warrior raised his head, his eyes shining. If Smoke was curious as to the nature of the Shadow, there was hope that he might agree to help them. "The Shadow is the living embodiment of the dark nature inside of all of us, such as the case with Abbot Oak. He gave in to his fear of vermin, and that grew to outright hate. If this sort of thing is allowed to continue, enough beasts will become infected by the Shadow for it to reach critical mass."

"What happens then?"

"You don't want to know. Your job is to cleanse the world of the Shadow's dark influences before that occurs."

Smoke was genuinely interested now, but still a little skeptical. "And how might I do that?"

"You must find the Oracle. He is the keeper of all knowledge. He will know what to do."

The gray ferret shrugged. "I'll get right to it, after I mop up some business with a squirrel."

Martin thrust his sword into the ground. Smoke's agreement to help appeared to have given him new strength. "You cannot kill Hazel," he said decisively "you need her."

"What possible use could a bloody squirrel that can't find 'er way around a forest an' wants to kill me have?"

"More than you think. She's royalty, like you."

Smoke felt his anger returning. "If you _ever_ compare me to that white-furred yellow-bellied excuse for a ferret again, I'll…Wait. Hazel's royalty?!"

"Yes"

"Then she's one of those oh-so-perfect bastards from Southsward! When I wake up, she's going to get it for what those sons of rats did…"

Martin placed a restraining paw on the enraged ferret's shoulder. "Hold, Smoke. That wasn't her fault, and you would definitely not benefit from killing a member of the royal family, and certainly not one whose parents are looking so hard for. She'll come in handy later, trust me."

Smoke sighed. "Aye, I guess so. What about Brushtail?"

The mouse warrior gave an enigmatic smile. "Oh, I think that we'll both be surprised at his destiny…"

With that, he disappeared, leaving Smoke alone.

"Wait, what?! Come back here!"

While the gray ferret stood yelling, the mist became dark, and a booming laugh filled Smoke's mind.

"Well, I guess this is the Shadow."

**Whew, my longest chapter yet. And we saw the introduction of two very important characters as well as a few fairly subtle hints at backstory. Did you like it? Hate it? Please review and tell me!**

**-Jarrtail**


	4. Oak's Legacy pt 1

_I am Abbot Oak of Redwall Abbey_

_I am Abbot Oak of Redwall Abbey _

_I am Abbot Oak of Redwall Abbey_

"That's strange…" Aaron peered over his large glasses to get a better look at the odd piece of parchment that had fallen out of the old book he had been reading. The page was quite wrinkled, and it had odd splatters on it, red-brown in color. At the top of the page was the date it had been written, like any Recorder's chronicle. All of the rest of the page, however, it was just the phrase _I am Abbot Oak of Redwall Abbey, _repeating over and this disturbing mantra, a single word had been scrawled in large letters: _ESCAPE_.

Aaron liked to think of himself as a rather intelligent otter Recorder, a good replacement for poor Darius. However, this page made him frightened in a way he could not describe or explain. He wanted to run, and never come back. But he couldn't, he felt like he was rooted to the spot, unable to move.

Examining the book that the sheet had fallen out of, titled _Outcast of Redwall, _he found more pieces of parchment, held in place by a pin. As he pulled the pin out, letting the pages fall to the floor, he noticed that the hole from the pin went through one word: _mercy. _

As he leaned over to retrieve the fallen sheets, he observed that while most of them were written in the same sequence as the first parchment; the sentence _I am Abbot Oak of Redwall Abbey _written down the page, starting one line under the date and having an all-capitals word scribbled over them, a few of them had mostly coherent writing on them in the form of some kind of journal, and it was these pages that he grabbed.

Arranging the sheets according to date, Aaron mentally prepared himself for whatever horror was contained in the parchments, and willed himself to be strong enough for it.

Leaning back in his chair, in the Gatehouse of Redwall Abbey, in Mossflower Country, Aaron, son of Skipper Tarel and Recorder of Redwall, began reading the words that would change the lives of everybeast forever…

_Summer of the Dragonflies, July week 2, Monday_

_What is wrong with me?_

_Why?_

_Today I experienced something that frightened me greatly. As I was helping Friar Gerald prepare toady's meal, I heard some Dibbuns running under the window, yelling and playing one of their games. Instead of feeling the warm glow of happiness that I usually do, I felt angry at them for interrupting me, no, anger isn't right. It was hatred, pure hatred at the innocent youngsters._

_Oh, Martin, why?_

_- Abbot Oak of Redwall Abbey_

_Tuesday_

_I can feel it, pulsing at the back of my mind. The hatred, it's here. It's going to control me eventually, I can feel it. If anybeast is reading this, kill me, or lock me in the cellar with Truth. I'm beyond help now._

_-Abbot Oak of Redwall Abbey_

_Wednesday_

_Vermin. It's them. They are the plague, the object of my hatred._

_Why would I hate them? My family was killed by them, true, but I have forgiven! I am _

_Abbot Oak of Redwall Abbey and I will not have my feelings swayed by this (unidentifiable scrawl here)_

_Vermin are a disease! They kill the weak and flee the strong! Destroy (large stain here, looks like blood)_

_-Abbot Oak of Redwall Abbey_

_Thursday_

_The old one is resisting far more tenuously than I had expecting. Still, his will shall fail in time, and (scrawl)_

_It'scomingIt'scomingIt'scomingIt'scomingIt'scomingIt'scomingIt'scoming_

_DAMN you, old one! Stop (ink stain) defying me! (Random line of ink across the page, as if the writer's paw had been jerked sharply)_

_IT'S HERE_

_-Abbot Oak of Redwall Abbey_

_Friday_

_After old Darius came down with a sickness, I leaped at the opportunity to temporarily replace him. I have now barricaded myself in the gatehouse, where I will not be able to hurt anybeast if the hatred takes (ink and blood mixed together)_

_The ancient fool is amazingly resilient. If all beasts in this light-kissed Abbey are like him, I'll have a tougher time than I thought. I'm not beaten, though. There's still my ace in the hole, the gray fr (Wet smudges, blood, and a scrawl that looks like some sort of lettering: two triangle-like shapes, a leaf, and an "H" missing the two lines on the right)_

_-Abbot Oak of Redwall Abbey_

_Saturday_

_I am Abbot Oak of Redwall Abbey_

_I am Abbot Oak of Redwall Abbey_

_I am Abbot Oak of Redwall Abbey_

_I am Abbot Oak of Redwall Abbey_

_I am Abbot Oak o (Blood, ink, fur, all mixed together)_

_The spies are in place. Now we just (scrawl)_

_IFYOUAREREADINGTHISRUNREDWALLNOTSAFENOTSAFENOTSAFENOTSAFE_

_MARTIN_

_TANNIC_

_HAZELHAZELHAZELHAZELHAZELHAZELHAZELHAZELHAZEL_

_Marten?_

_It WILL happen! Redwall will fall, ancient one! Fall to its own hate (Dots of ink, as if the writers hand was shaking)!_

_-Abbott Oak of Redwall Abbey_

_Sunday_

_I will not lose myself (this sentence is crossed out). _

_I will. It's gathering, it's going for one final strike. I'll be gone. I'm not me. Seeing things. Squirrel. Ferret (scrawl) White? Gray? Weasel. MartinMartenMartinblack? Fire. Panic. Walls gone. Vermin in Abbey. What? Ver (Huge pool of ink, inkwell must have fallen over)_

_(Words an odd red-brown color, and have an odd smell) I will not go. I will remember who I am. Must not (Scrawl, or blood. Hard to tell)_

_I am Abbot Oak of Redwall Abbey_

_I am Abbot Oak of Redwall Abbey_

_I am Abbot Oak of Redwall Abbey_

_I am Abbot Oak of Redwall Abbey_

_I am Abbot Oak of Redwall Abbey_

_I am Abbot Oak of Redwall Abbey_

_I am Abbot Oak of Redwall Abbey_

_I am Abbot Oak of Redwall Abbey_

_I AM YOUR MASTER_

_-Abbot Oak of Redwall Abbey_

_**END **__(Large bloodstain)_

Aaron felt a presence in the room behind him. Whirling around, he nearly missed hitting Tannic in the nose. The otter warrior looked at his brother incredulously.

"Oy, matey? What'd ya do that for?"

Aaron didn't answer, breathing hard and cupping his head in his hands. Tannic, oblivious, began to tell him of the night's expedition to find the evil, vile, vermin Smoke. After ten minutes or so of this, the self-elected Red Warrior left, leaving the Recorder alone with a madbeast's ramblings.

Glad that his boisterous older brother was gone and glad that he had a chance to get his thoughts in line, Aaron slumped down in his armchair, contemplating what he had just read. It was obvious that somebeast needed to be told, but the question was: who?

Tannic was out of the question. Aaron's warrior brother was so devoted to Oak that any insinuation that he had not been in his right mind would be met with hostility, not to mention that he'd be branded a vermin-lover by everybeast in the Inner Council, plus quite a few on the Walls.

Tril was a possibility. That hedgehog had never believed in Smoke's guilt, and who love the opportunity to prove the ferret innocent. However, he wasn't the smartest of beasts, and would probably do something rash with it. No, not Tril. Who, then?

Giving up, at least for a moment, Aaron instead tried to figure out the secret of the other pages. They had a purpose, he was sure.

"Hmmm," he muttered, "these have to mean something…"

The otter scholar shifted through the pieces of parchment, looking at the date, the big word…the date!

Breathless once again, this time with excitement rather than fear, Aaron arranged the sheets in order of their date, the end result looking like this:

_Summer of the Dragonflies, July week 3, Monday_

_IT'S_

_Tuesday_

_COMING_

_Wednesday_

_READER_

_Thursday_

_FLEE_

_Friday  
_

_REDWALL (this word is crossed out)_

_HELL_

_Saturday_

_SMOKE_

_Sunday_

_INNOCENT_

_***_

Somewhere out in the vastness Mossflower woods, a voice was heard.

"I AM SMOKE, EXILE!"

The gray ferret sat bolt upright as he screamed those words, his mind filled with unimaginable fear, only his name showing through all the chaos. He noted with confusion that Hazel was still asleep, but turning his head toward where Brushtail was sleeping, he saw the young marten glaring at him.

"Glaring" was most definitely an understatement when one is trying to describe what Brushtail was doing, but no word existed in this language to accurately tell of the stare that Smoke was receiving, so "glaring" was the best option.

The first thing that the ferret noticed was that the marten's eyes were red (Blood red, to be precise, a color that Smoke was not particularly fond of), and full of pure hate. Normally, one would not expect to see _hate_, but hate was what Smoke saw in the eyes of Brushtail that night.

Then he started talking. If the glare was mind-bogglingly scary, the voice was doubly so. Smoke could not understand the words, as they were in an unfamiliar language, and spoken in a low hiss that sent shivers up his spine.

By this point, the gray ferret had convinced himself that it was a dream. _Yes, a dream. That's all it is. I'm dreaming that some crazy marten that an idiot squirrel picked up yesterday is glaring at me. And talking. I'll just go back to sleep now. This'll all be gone in the morning. _

With this comforting thought in his mind, he laid his head back down on the ground, intending to return to slumber. Unfortunately, sleep was a long time in coming as Smoke could feel that stare burning into him, and he could still hear the voice, both through his ears and whispering in the back of his mind...

**Well, this fic has certainly taken a turn for the creepy. Honestly, I'm not sure how much I like this chapter, so it may be extensively edited, depending on what reviewers say. So review! Your opinions matter!**

**-Jarrtail**


	5. All Rise and Welcome Our Newest Member

Chapter 3

_Committee for a Better Life; All Rise and Welcome Our Newest Member._

_It's funny, really. I thought Recorders were supposed to write an honest and objective chronicle of history. After my last installment, I was forbidden to read this account aloud in Cavern Hole after mealtimes, and I'm not even permitted to store this with the rest of Redwall's history. Apparently, the archive is no place for "fanciful stories." Well, I'll show him how fanciful this is…_

_-Frost, Recorder of Redwall Abbey in Mossflower country _

Smoke lay completely still, listening. He could feel somebeast near him, somebeast who was making quite a bit of noise. He waited- _five, four, three, two, -_then sat up and grabbed it by the neck.

"Hey! Get off me!" Shaking his head in order to wake up better, the ferret saw that he was close to strangling Hazel. Contemptuously throwing her to the ground, he strode over and swept up his haversack from where it lay opened on the ground.

"That'll teach yeh to look through my stuff, then. Get movin', an' be thankful that I don't hurt yeh more."

As he kicked Brushtail awake, Smoke tried to make sense of what he could remember of the previous night. All he could call to mind was that there was _something _that he needed to do. That and an inexplicable fear of Brushtail, he recalled as the young marten groggily came to. The ferret could barely suppress a laugh at that thought, it was so ridiculous.

Presently, the other two were galvanized into moving. Smoke hadn't had a particular destination in mind, but he soon had the idea of paying Frenzy a visit. He was running out of food anyway, and hopefully the other two would be scared into submission as a bonus. _Heh, Frenzy it is then. I can't _wait _to see that squirrel's face. _

***

"'ey, Tannic, mate, over 'ere!"

The otter warrior steered himself and his breakfast tray over to where several of his own kind were already seated, enjoying their early morning meal. Sitting in the midst of them, he listened carefully to their gossip. It was always handy to know what the lower ranks were thinking.

"So did'ja 'ear 'bout th' search party?"

"Yeah, mate. They 'aven't come back yet."

"Th' Council ain't gonna be 'appy 'bout that."

"No kiddin'. Though, what I don't see is 'ow a single ferret could kill that many beasts. I've seen some good fighters go out on patrols."

"Ah, 'e probably 'as some friends t' stab our mates in th' back for 'im. Damned vermin ain't honest 'nough fer single combat."

"One day we'll get th' bastard, that's fer sure."

"Aye, matey. Say, 'ave you 'eard that th' Recorder finally cracked?"

Tannic paused, a fresh oatcake halfway between the plate and his mouth, "What?"

"Yeah, 'e took near 'nough food t' feed an army, an' barricaded 'imself in th' gate'ouse. Some say 'e even took some weapons."

"Wonder if 'e knows somethin' we don't?"

"Ah, this is Aaron we're talkin' 'bout, matey. 'e probably doesn't even know 'ow t' use 'em."

Tannic couldn't hear them anymore, as he was running down the halls of Redwall Abbey at top speed, breakfast forgotten.

***

Technically, Aaron ought to have been happy. He had a cup of his favorite damson wine, and he was sitting in his favorite overstuffed armchair in the gatehouse foyer. However, the crossbow in his paw and the new holes in the door were a testament to his wrought nerves and itchy trigger claw. The otter stiffened as he heard somebeast knocking on the door.

"Come out, brother! This isn't funny!" Tannic banged on the door again, narrowing his eyes as he thought of the embarrassment his sibling was causing him. It didn't do for somebeast related to the Warrior of Redwall to act like this.

"How do I know you're really Tannic?! Oak wasn't Oak! Smoke isn't guilty! Maybe Tannic isn't Tannic! Maybe you're that thing that Oak talked about!"

"Aaron, I'm growing tired of this. Come out an- what did you say about Smoke?"

"You heard me! He's innocent! Maybe the Redwallers wouldn't be so eager to follow you if they knew that, hmm, _monster!_"

The otter leapt out of his armchair when the Sword of Martin crashed through the door timbers. Dropping his crossbow, he tried to undo the window latch, but it was stuck. _That'll teach me to put off fixing this for three seasons, _he thought wryly.

Consumed with white-hot rage, Tannic smashed through the remainder of the door and crossed the room with a leap and a bound to where Aaron was frantically tugging at the window. Grabbing his brother in an iron-pawed grip, he practically dragged him across the front lawn of Redwall. Instead of opening the main door, which would make quite a spectacle, he veered off to the left toward a small door set between the ground and the wall. Seeing this, Aaron began to struggle anew.

"No, don't put me in there! Don't! It'll kill me!"

"That's what you deserve, spreading lies like that," Tannic said coolly as he kicked open the door.

***

"Can we stop for a break yet?" Hazel moaned. Smoke had driven the other two hard all morning, not ceasing for rest or eating. They had had to make do with berries gathered on the march.

"No, I wanna try to get there before th' storm hits."

"What storm? This is the brightest sun we've had all spring!"

Smoke shaded his eyes with his left paw, pointing toward the west, "See that dark mass of clouds? Big 'ole storm, blowin' in from th' sea probably. Don't wanna be caught out in onea those, let me tell ya."

Hazel was silent for a little while after that, before asking the question that she'd been mulling over.

"I didn't see the tapestry in your bag. Did you hide it somewhere?"

Unexpectedly, Smoke began laughing rather loudly, "Yer still hanging onta that delusion, ain't'cha? I told yeh once, an' if I have to tell yeh another ninety-nine times I will. I didn't steal the tapestry. There. Ninety-eight times to go. I didn't-"

Hazel sighed, "I get the idea."

Smoke gave an exaggerated grin, "Then yeh'll stop askin' stupid questions?"

"One more: Why do you have a stick with lines carved into it?"

Smoke paused, causing Brushtail to run into his back. Then he flashed a wry smile, "'Cause my dagger handle's metal."

Hazel paused, thought about this, and then shuddered. There were a lot of marks.

***

Tannic yanked his brother through the door into the coolness of Redwall's cellars. This made Aaron more agitated, and he clawed frantically at the floor as Tannic dragged him toward a large steel door at the end of the passageway. As he struggled, he noticed that his claws were leaving long furrows in the ground, and near or under his marks were countless others. This terrified him into unconsciousness.

The otter warrior grunted in exertion as his brother went limp. Lugging a dead weight was easier than a resisting, screaming one, but only slightly more pleasant. After reaching the metal portal that was his destination, he then deposited Aaron on the ground and took a key ring from his belt. Selecting a large, rusty one, he inserted into the keyhole.

Turning it with an audible shriek of iron on steel, he shoved the door open with his elbow. It swung open, revealing a large expanse of darkness. He tossed his brother in quickly, and then slammed the door as fast as he could. As he locked the monstrosity of steel once again, he muttered a single comment to the now-imprisoned Aaron, "Goodbye, my traitorous brother."


	6. All Who Those Ignore Our Wishes Will be

"_But I don't want to go among mad people," Alice remarked._

"_Oh, you can't help that," said the Cat: "we're all mad here. I'm mad. You're mad."_

"_How do you know I'm mad?" said Alice._

"_You must be," said the Cat, "or you wouldn't have come here."_

_-Alice's Adventures in Wonderland_

Chapter 6

Committee for a Better Life; All those who ignore our wishes will be eliminated

Smoke was pleased with the little group's progress. The storm was a good hour away, and the large, dead sycamore tree that marked Frenzy's abode was already in sight. However, the ferret was beginning to feel slightly uneasy. He was positive that he could smell blood, and the omnipresent smoke trail that signified his friend's presence was absent. Turning to Brushtail and Hazel, he berated them fiercely in an attempt to goad the pair into moving faster.

"'ey, are yeh walkin' on yer own, or are yeh bein' pulled by a snail? I've seen ole oaks that moved faster 'n you two. C'mon, pick up yer feet!"

Hazel groaned. She was sore, tired, and hungry. Brushtail, not being raised in a sheltered environment such as Redwall, was better off, but not by much. Incessant pleas for a break had degenerated into tired mumblings, neither of which Smoke took much notice to.

The grey ferret seemed full of boundless nervous energy, constantly looking over his shoulder and urging the other two to hurry. _It would be better if he told where we were going, _she thought, _but I doubt that's going to happen before we get there. _The only thing that he had revealed about their destination was the promise of fresh food, which would be a welcome thing in and of itself. The bread that Smoke had been rationing from his haversack was long stale, and bug-infested.

The ferret held up his paw, signaling them to stop. The exhausted pair simply fell to the ground where they stood with an audible thud. Smoke crept back over to where they lay, his eyes darting back and forth. Pointing toward the lightning-struck sycamore, he explained, "Frenzy lives in that clearing over there. Now, normally we ought to have heard somethin'. She's not usually the most subtle of weasels, yeh see. I don't like this t'all. I'm gonna go check things out. Either of you two move a pawslength from this spot and I'll rip all of th' organs in yer chest out through yer nose, understand?"

They groaned assent. Satisfied that his charges were secure, the ferret exile slunk through the trees until he was out of sight. Presently, he was running back far more quickly than he had arrived, an expression of disgust stamped across his features.

***

Aaron was vaguely aware of voices somewhere above him, and of an abominable ache that pervaded his body. Lying still, the otter decided it was best to feign unconsciousness until he was sure that whoever it was was not going to kill him.

"Do ya think 'e's still alive?"

"I dunno. Even if 'e is, th' least we kin do is drag 'im away so th'…Lost Ones can't get to 'im."

"Ah, point. Though 'e looks rather well-fleshed, an' we ain't 'ad meat in over-"

_Slap! _"Belay that kinna talk! If we do that, we'll be no better 'n _them_. We save th' otter, an' that's final."

Opening his eyes, Aaron was surprised to see that he could see rather well for about a spearlength in front of himself, thought the steel door and stark dirt floor had an odd green tint. Sitting up and turning around, he beheld a group of three beasts: a male fox, female otter, and male stoat. The greenness appeared to be emanating from the fox's tale, which was covered with some kind of glowing substance. Seeing that he was, in fact, awake, they stopped conversing and all looked toward him.

He began by clearing his throat politely, "Ahem, if one of you good sirs or madam would be kind enough to explain to me _what on earth in going on here?!" _

The fox immediately slapped a paw over his mouth, "Not so loud, New Meat. _They'll _hear ya. Wait'll we get to the safe 'ouse."

The stoat snorted, "Not really much ova house, really."

"It serves th' purpose. You, Tishka or wotever your name is, show New Meat 'ere to th' safe 'ouse. Me 'n Brute'll take th' long way in case 'e attracted some o' th' Lost Ones."

The otter, who had not yet spoken, nodded. Beckoning for Aaron to follow, she crawled off in the opposite direction of the other two. Pursuing her in the near pitch darkness, the recorder found his mind brimming with questions, chief of them 'was this place what he thought it was?' If it really was, Tannic would have some explaining to do.

Arriving at a short wall of mud, his guide found herself staring into what appeared to be a large bone, its end sharpened to a razor-sharp point.

"Wot's th' password?" a gruff voice demanded.

"C'mon, Boney, do I _look_ insane to you?"

"'ard t' tell with ya normally, an' Chief Truth won't let us use torches anymore after Break set 'imself on fire, th' crazy bastard. I swear they could nothave designed this place better if they were _trying _to make us kill ourselves…"

Pulling a bone knife from her belt, the female otter menaced the voice, "Dammit Bone, don't make me 'urt yer good eye too."

The spear was retracted to the tune of rebellious murmurings, "Alright, alright. Sheesh, somebeast's touchy t'day."

"We got fresh meat. I'm tryin' to get 'im into th' barricade before 'e shares th' same fate as th' last one." She climbed over the mud hill, and Aaron followed suit. Inside were maybe half a score beasts, mostly vermin, all gathered around a small fire. The aroma of burning flesh pervaded the atmosphere, though no corpses were visible. Bone weapons were much in evidence, from clubs to knives to short spears to sword-like devices. Squatting next to his guide, whom he was beginning to think of as Tishka, the otter recorder waited for the return of the fox and the stoat.

He did not have long to wait. They both clambered over the short wall, seemingly unhurt. The fox crawled over to Aaron and began talking in hushed tones,

" Hm. Yer a goodbeast. Didn't expect that. Not too many of 'em arrivin' anymore. Now, about this place. Ya see, it was created in an attempt to "remove" hostile vermin, as well as "rebellious" woodlanders, from society. Some of th' 'ead bastards an' bitchs, respectively, in th' Abbey, 'ad been thinkin' 'bout somethin' like this fer awhile, but they only got to enact their plan in th' wake of th' Smoke Incident, two seasons after if I recall correctly. Th' basic idea 'ere was that they'd trap us in 'ere until we would "renounce our evil ways" an' whatnot. Never 'eard of that actually 'appenin', of course. Th' point is, somewhere during the first season or two of operation, th' system broke down. We more or less freed ourselves, but we can't get past th' steal door an' th' ground's too 'ard to tunnel through. We're still fed once a day, prob'ly just 'cause they don't wanna admit that it failed an' 'ave t' keep up an appearance of operation."

Aaron held up his paw. "I've heard of this place, but I was under the impression that it was humane and well-organized. My brother, Tannic, said-" He was interrupted by the stoat, Brute, who began yelling.

"'ey! We got Tannic brother over 'ere! An' 'e's an idiot!" This statement caused many ugly looks and paw movement toward weapons, but the fox was able to restore order with a glare and went on with his explanation.

"Ah, well, there's yer problem. Tannic was one of th' more prominent bastards on th' original project. Ya see, 'e doesn't want anybeast to think of him or anythin' associated with him as anythin' less'n perfect."

The otter was about to protest, but then realized what the fox said was true. He knew Tannic better than most, and the idea didn't seem all that far-fetched given his brother's arrogance and intense hatred of vermin. Turning to the fox, he asked one more question, "By the way, what is your name?"

"Well, my formal name is th' Oracle o' Truth, but'cha kin call me Truth."

***

"Well, is it alright?"asked Hazel. Smoke nodded grimly, but the corners of his mouth twitched into a sarcastic smile. Taking this to mean "yes," she and Brushtail began walking off in the direction that the ferret had returned from. Pushing aside a screen of bushes, they emerged into a scene of complete carnage.

There was blood everywhere. The first thing that Hazel noticed was the squirrel pinned to the oak tree by a large, wide-bladed hatchet. And the mouse with a huge gaping chest wound. Hazel looked around the clearing, an expression of horror upon her face. Oddly enough, Brushtail seemed to even be grinning. A low whisper tumbled out of his mouth, "_Ah, this is most pleasing. The gap widens, and stability is threatened. My enemy will have to make a move swiftly, and I have a most _pleasing _counter-move._"

As the Redwall squirrel looked toward him incredulously, the marten shook his head and gazed around as if he hadn't seen the panorama of death not a half-minute prior. "What 'appened here?!"

Before Hazel had time to ponder the sudden change, Smoke stole up behind her and rested a hard paw on her shoulder. "Now, see for yerself th' reality of yer life."


End file.
